A mouse.

  It was tiny, with fur that seemed more like a slick coat of oil than hair. The creature’s eyes shone like pinpricks of silver, and it stared up at him, twitching. Assessing him carefully.

  Mitch knelt down and rummaged through his pouch, retrieving a piece of hardtack. He snapped a tiny piece off, and threw it to the mouse in an offering. It sniffed the air, then darted forward to snatch the food with its small, clawed paws.

  The mouse chewed quickly, darting its eyes from Mitch to the dark passage beyond. Mitch watched, amused as the creature scurried away.

  Mitch continued his watch in silent darkness. A few minutes later, the creature returned, this time with several friends trailing behind.

  Dozens of tiny eyes gleamed up at him in the dim light, each mouse a near-perfect shadow of the last. Mitch smirked, feeling a flicker of curiosity and mischief spark in his mind. Their movements were eerily synchronized, the faint rustle of their slick bodies unnervingly quiet in the echoing tunnel.

  Curiosity and mischief sparked in his mind, but it was tempered by unease. These weren’t normal mice.

  He knelt, extending his fingers slowly. One brave creature crawled closer, its silver eyes locking onto his. The others twitched in anticipation, huddled in a semi-circle as though awaiting his next move. Mitch felt a strange pang—kinship? Power? He couldn’t place it.

  Alright, let’s see how this works.

  He reached for his Affliction Skill, Dominion of Shadows, which offered control and authority over lesser Abyssal beings. Something clicked in his mind.

  A thin thread of influence settled over the mice, and he felt a slight tingle as their small wits bent to his. The notification confirmed it had worked.

  Affliction Skill

  Dominion of Shadows

  Level 1

  Exert control over lesser Abyssal beings. True obedience must be granted willingly.

  Usage of this skill may attract the attention of beings from the Abyss.

  Minions: 11 Abyssal Mice (+11 Abyssal Mice)

  The first mouse froze, its tiny mind bending to his will. One by one, the others followed. The connection snapped into place, faint but tangible, like spider silk threaded through his consciousness. They were his now.

  A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tested its limits. He made multiple mice jump and scurry in little patterns as the others watched, twitching in anticipation. He gave the ones he influenced the same commands, feeling a strange satisfaction as they responded eagerly. Dustings of hardtack as rewards for the mice made the process even easier.

  A hiss, low and drawn, slithered through the dark like a warning bell.

  Mitch barely had time to tense before a massive coiled form shot out from the shadows with terrifying speed.

  A snake, matte black scales dark as night and eyes glowing with a sinister red light. It struck in a single, deadly flash. It was the size of an anaconda, thick as a tree. And so fast Mitch’s eyes could barely follow.

  Minions: 10 Abyssal Mice (-1 Abyssal Mice)

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  Its mouth opened and swallowed the first mouse whole. Mitch took a step back, adrenaline kicking in as the remaining mice scattered. They squealed in terror as his grasp of their minds slipped.

  Mitch reacted, and clamped down on their tiny minds with Dominion of Shadows. The panic ebbed as he threw it into Devoid. With a vicious tug, he redirected their movements back towards the snake.

  “Hate snakes,” Mitch growled, watching the giant Abyssal Snake recoil, its head still poised to strike again. This time, it faced him.

  Mitch’s fingers twitched. Dominion of Shadows flared like an unlit match struck against stone. The snake coiled tighter, its crimson eyes boring into him with an intelligence that felt wrong–too sharp, too knowing.

  It striked to the side, devouring another mouse, its jaws snapping as it ate another mouse.

  Minions: 9 Abyssal Mice (-1 Abyssal Mice)

  He pushed Dominion of Shadows outward. His control stretched thin, a mental tether swiping at the snake’s mind. The Skill hissed in response.

  “Let’s see how you like this,” he muttered, sweat beading on his temple.

  The snake twitched. For a heartbeat, it froze. It was different from the mice—far larger, far more complex. Its scales rippled as if trying to slough off invisible chains. No notification was sent his way.

  The brief connection shattered. Molten pain lanced through Mitch’s head, and he stumbled backward. The snake snapped back to itself with a feral hiss, its burning gaze now locked on him.

  The snake struck, fangs flashing. Mitch barely twisted away in time. Its body flexed with renewed energy. Whatever Mitch had tried, it had pissed the thing off.

  Not a Lesser Abyssal being then. Dominion of Shadows is too weak. Mice it is.

  He gripped his empty Soul Sword, heart pounding as he directed the mice that charged from all directions. Some scrambled over one another towards the snake in forced determination. It was the oddest feeling, to know where they were around him, like small flickering beacons.

  They swarmed around its scales, biting at the rough hide with miniscule teeth. Barely more than a nuisance for the snake. But it was distracting enough to give Mitch an opening.

  He yelled and swung his blade, but the snake dodged sideways. A brutal slash ran across the snake’s flank, and he felt the blade bite into flesh. It didn’t pass through however, as all his other strikes had.

  That’s new. I think this snake is tougher than the Grimmers.

  Black ichor sprayed from the wound. A sharp shout echoed down the tunnel. “Mitch!” Sable’s voice was tight with alarm. Warrick’s deeper bellow followed.

  Mitch ignored their calls. They would come, and he would fight what was in front of him. The snake coiled tighter, its burning eyes fixed on him, waiting for the next strike. He couldn’t afford a single wasted second.

  The mice squealed as they continued to bite the hide of the snake. Before he could pull back his sword, the snake’s tail whipped around in a lightning-fast arc, aimed directly at his left hand.

  It struck him just above the wrist, punching through Rex, which elicited a growl from the beast that covered Mitch’s body.

  Searing pain exploded in Mitch’s hand, and his grip on the soul sword faltered. He looked down, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw a gaping wound. Even through the clinical state from Devoid, Mitch knew this wasn’t good.

  Rot. The wound was melting, the flesh around the puncture blackening as if eaten by acid. He could visibly see the festering spreading quickly towards his hand. The pain told him that it was also happening up the Rex-covered forearm as well.

  The rot crawled up his arm, an icy burn as his skin melted. Rex growled, the sound reverberating in Mitch’s ear like thunder, but the beast’s presence couldn’t mask the searching pain.

  Even through the haze of Devoid, panic clawed at the edges of his thoughts. He shoved it down, clamping the emotion into the lockbox of his mind.

  Not now. Not here.

  Mitch felt the rot spreading further, a creeping poison devouring flesh and sinew with every passing second. Time was running out.

  He kept an eye on the snake as he made a cold, calculated decision. He waited for it to strike again, and ordered the mice he controlled to tear harder. Two mice minions got special instructions.

  Go for the eyes.

  Mitch held his rotting hand in front of him. The rot from the bite melted his flesh before his eyes.

  He raised the soul sword one handed. Noise from Sable yelling behind him told that his squad was still a ways away.

  Cold rationality knew this was the only current solution.

  Sacrifices must be made.